


Can I Help?

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds, Derek Morgan - Fandom
Genre: F/M, broken leg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 16:10:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9279407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry ;)





	

“Hey babe,” you said into the phone, doing your best to regulate your voice so you could temper his reaction. “How’s work?”

“Not too busy today,” he replied quickly, “But why are you calling now? You never call at this hour.” He was right. You were always in the studio or on the stage practicing. 

“Ummm…I might have broken my leg,” you replied, feeling at the bulky cast on your leg. Someone had cleaned up the stage when the dancers had gone for lunch, and didn’t put down a wet floor sign, so you ended up slipping on an area of the stage, falling off and breaking your fibula.

“What?!” he screamed. On the other line, you could already hear him picking up his coat from the back of his chair and shrugging it on. “How? Are you okay?”

You laughed softly. He was always worried about you. Whenever anything minor happened, he’d freak out and get all overprotective. Most times it was cute, sometimes it was annoying. “I’m okay,” you said, trying to soothe his frayed nerves, “It’s already in a cast. I was just calling because I can go home now and my parents are three hours away, so as long as you’re not busy, you can pick me up, right?”

“Of course,” he said worriedly. “It makes no sense for you to call them. Work isn’t busy. I’m on my way now.” Immediately, he hung up the phone. Whenever he didn’t say goodbye or I love you, it was because he was distracted or worried. He was probably already running into Hotch’s office, insisting he needed time off of work to take care of you - even though you had crutches and could take care of yourself.

———-

“Have you calmed down now?” you laughed, using your crutches to get out of the car.

“I’m fine,” he insisted, coming around to your side of the car and putting his arm under yours. “Would you please let me help you?” 

Taking the crutches, you made big strides toward the apartment building. “You’ll have to catch me first.” Quickly, he did catch up to you; you could probably outrun him when you were off of the crutches. At the elevator, he asked if he could pick you up and take you into the apartment; it would make him feel better. So you said ok. “Are you going to be up my butt until I’m off these things?” you asked, loving the feeling of being carried around in Derek’s arms. His overprotectiveness was charming most of the time, but you did like to bust him about it.

“Yes,” he said matter-of-factly. “I absolutely am. How did you even do this anyway?” You explained to him about the wet floor sign not being there and he flipped out, insisting that you sue someone for your broken leg.

“It’s not a severe break and it was a mistake,” you responded. “I’m not going to get someone fired from their job for an accident. I’ll be able to go back to work after it heals and I’ll be good as new. If I couldn’t dance anymore it might be a different story. But I’m good. So breathe.”

After opening the apartment door, he gently placed you on the couch and went to grab you a glass of water. “Take these,” he said, handing you the glass along with a dose of the pain pills the doctor had prescribed. He watched as you swallowed the pills and then attempted to maneuver yourself to a more comfortable position. “Can I help?” he asked facetiously, gloating over the fact that you actually did need his help.

You shook your head. “Yes, please,” you sighed. “Moving while seated is going to be a pain in the ass.”

He laughed, placing his arms under your upper back and knees so that he could pick you up fully and place you down where you wanted to be. “Yes, it is. Now is there anything else I can do for you right now? I took the week off from work so I could be here.”

“Babe,” you exclaimed, “you didn’t need to take that much time off! I’ll learn to move around by myself. I’m not helpless, you know.”

“I know,” he said, pushing your bangs back from your forehead and giving you a kiss. “But I want to help. What else can I do?”

Immediately, your stomach grumbled. “Ask my stomach what you can do for it,” you laughed. “I was gonna make pasta and chicken cutlet tonight. You wanna make me dinner?” you asked with a big smile.

“Of course,” he said, making his way toward the refrigerator, “Wait, what about sauce?” His eyes looked panicked; he knew his sauce sucked.

You snorted. “I have some of my sauce in the freezer you can defrost.”

Nearly an hour later, dinner was served and you didn’t even have to get up from the table to eat it; he’d plated some food and brought it over to you on the couch. Maybe a week being pampered by your boyfriend wouldn’t be so bad - it was nice to occasionally let down your walls and not be so strong.

———-

After a week with Derek at home, not allowing you to do anything on your own, you were dying for him to go back to work. “You cannot take another day off,” you said, pointing towards the door and demanding he go back to work. “Go!”

He laughed, turning back to give you a kiss before leaving. “Are you sure? I mean, I have the time and if you need my help I want to be able to be here.”

“I am perfectly capable or getting around on my own,” you said, pointing towards the door again. “If I desperately need you, I will call you. I promise. Now, go!” you chuckled.

“Okay,” he replied, as he walked toward the door. “Are you sure?”

“GO!”


End file.
